Nothing to fear but fear itself
by Bond.Jane
Summary: Tag for The boy with the answer


_**Author's note: I am uploading this without net, ie, having seen the episode only once before heading off to work and without having run it past the lovely MickeyBoogs, beta extraordinaire.**_

**_But somethings just have to be done like this..._**

**_Forgive me if you don't like it, tell me if you do._**

**_With love_**

**_Jane_**

_It was a fool he who did not listen to the words of a serial murderer._

She had dared believing the nightmares would be over if Taffett got convicted. Waking up chocking on a scream that would not come because she could still feel the sand inside her throat told her otherwise. Her whole body ached every time she lost Hodgins and Booth in so many variations of that same nightmare.

It was one of those curious things that the same cabbie Booth had stopped to drive her home was the same one that took her to the little church Booth had taken her after he had pulled her from the sand where she had been buried with Hodgins.

She felt more composed there. Less claustrophobic that in her home. As if just by having those nightmares, she had allowed her murdered into her home. This church was a quiet place with the clear light of dawn coming in through the stained glassworks. And still, it did not feel safe. No where felt safe. Except Booth. Booth was her safe place. Her happy place.

Except he too could be taken from her. As if she didn't know that before. But those nightmares? Those brought it back to her. His mortality. The full impact of it. That was the one thing she could not survive.

Her tight wrapping of rationality and logic did nothing to assuage her fear. It just made it clearer, more plausible: people had invaded her heart. The more people inside it, the more people she had to look out for, to defend. The more people were inside, the more people she could lose. Even if it wasn't about them abandoning her. There were the ties of loyalty and friendship and love they had woven between them.

But they could be taken away from her.

And that clouded her judgment. Made her a cannon lose against herself.

Things would be easier, clearer when she didn't have to worry about anything or anyone.

Now her life was a mess of lose ends and close knitted threads. Pull one, take one out, and the whole things falls apart.

The conclusion was obvious:

Sitting there in that church, alone, Brennan found the answer: she needed out.

She needed the safety of not inviting disaster in.

Taffett was right. Just because she was in custody, it was not the end. Not by a long shot.

She couldn't just let go of these people. She couldn't make herself orphan again. But she could end her participation, her team's participation in murder investigations. Get them as far away from danger as possible. Get them and herself as far away from evil as possible. Reduce the opportunities to make them a target.

She couldn't ask Booth to be less of man that he was. She couldn't ask him not to do this. But she could not be there to see him dying.

This? She couldn't do this anymore.

Brennan looked inside herself. This was fear. Grade one fear. But five years had gone by. Five years of setting wrongs to right. She was entitled to fear.

.

.

.

Booth knew the more he tightened his grip on her, the more she would slip away. So he had sat in his car while she slept, watching over her, praying she would sleep soundly now that the trial was over. He had seen the lights come on before dawn and he had seen her hail a cab, disheveled and without so much as coat to ward off the cold of the night. He followed her to his little church and knew she was right. Things were changing. They told you had to let go of the ones you love. But no one told you what to do if they didn't come back.

He walked silently to her and draped his jacket over her back. She did not look surprised.

As he sat close, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"You wanna know what I think, Bones?"

"What?"

"I think that you're right"

"About what?"

"Whatever you decided just now"

"You don't know what I decided"

"No. I but trust you. You always make the right decisions"

"You wanna know what I decided?"

"You decided that you want to stop doing what we do"

"Are you OK with that?"

"No. But."

"But what?"

"Ever you ever heard that when a door closes, somewhere God opens a window?"

Brennan nodded.

"I think we've been waiting to walk through doors for a long time now. I think we need a new direction." He paused. He wasn't such a quick thinker as she was and he was under pressure. "I think… we should take a look at that window, slowly, and see if we want to go that way."

His thumb rubbed her shoulder slowly in small circles.

"I think you are very brave. I think you're going to try this window with me." Slowly, his thumb rolled its little circles towards her face.

She leaned into his shoulder and took a deep sigh, as if she was filling her lungs with air before diving off a cliff. This was where she felt safe. Right there in his arms.

"OK" There was no hesitation in the quiet tone.

"OK? That simple?"

"Yes."

He pulled closer. He couldn't wait to kiss her. He couldn't wait for a lot of things. But that? Sitting there in that hard pew, he was just busy enjoying the happiest he'd ever been.


End file.
